The Narc
by 90TheGeneral09
Summary: Bored at just the thought of going to school on Monday, April 2, 2001, Brad Huff and Charlie Jenkins decide to play a cruel prank at the expense of two other boys.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 **A/N: I got the idea for this story around December 8, 2017, when I set up the Word document to start writing it. Took me until late May 2018 to get started, and until July 2018 to finish modifying it. This is the second fanfic I have ever seen on here to depict Brad Huff- and I showed up as an anonymous reader in 2010-2011 and as a writer in 2012- and the first one ever to feature Brad Huff in his own home and at school as he experiences it. Everyone is the hero of their own story and Brad Huff, much as Andre Kriegman and Calvin Gabriel hate him, is no exception.**

* * *

 **Monday, April 2, 2001**

* * *

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Brad Huff groaned as his alarm clock went off. He swiped at it, and only succeeded in knocking it to the floor, where it continued to go off.

 _Fuck. I don't wanna get up. Get the fuck outta here with that shit, man. My cheerleader girlfriend was riding me until 10 minutes before curfew last night. I never dressed and drove so fast in my fucking life. No, seriously, fuck off. Dude, you're killing my vibe. Okay-_

Brad grunted something unintelligible and tried to get the alarm clock to shut up, but he just knocked it under the bed.

 _God-fucking-damn-it_.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

 _Christ. Why did I even set it at this hour? Fuck, I gotta get up!_

Brad rolled out of bed and scrambled for the alarm clock. He soon located it, pulled it to him, and switched it off.

The house was dark, and dead silent once again. Brad held completely still, listening carefully for the sound of Captain Jingles waking up and preparing to go "Wheeek! Wheeek! Wheeek!" loud enough to wake the frigging dead.

Nothing.

 _Oh, thank God for small favors_.

Brad stood up and headed over to the door of his spacious walk-in closet. The door opened on well-oiled brass hinges, and Brad switched on the closet's interior light. He took a minute to strike a couple poses and admire himself. He was captain of the Iroquois High School wrestling team, played football and hockey, and had first started going to the gym when he was twelve. There was a lot to admire.

Girls thought so, too. Brad had been one of the first guys in his class to get laid, and had never been without a steady girlfriend and/or prospects for a one-night stand. Girls just couldn't get enough of the Huff. Brad grinned, looking at himself. He'd worked damn hard to look like this.

Of course, his parents had helped just a little. Coming from a family of handsome, talented people had just given Brad the starting advantage he'd always deserved.

With some reluctance, Brad looked away from the mirror and wandered toward the door to his room. He grabbed the pull-up bar, did ten reps, then let himself back down and headed out into the darkened upstairs hallway of the house. As he neared the bathroom at the top of the stairs, feet moving silently on the hardwood floor, Brad could hear his brother, Danny, snoring.

 _The kid brother forgot to set his alarm_ , Brad thought. _It figures_.

Brad headed into the bathroom and got his handsome body all ready for the day. His appearance was perfectly groomed whenever he headed out, and his golden-blond hair alone took ten minutes to comb and style properly. Looking this good involved a lot of upkeep.

When Brad left the bathroom, Danny was still sleeping. Brad felt a moment of irritation, but he shook his head and went back to his room. The Huff boys had a plan for this morning, and Danny had known he was supposed to get up at the same time as Brad. He had said yes, he was up for it, and there he was sleeping, the lazy bum.

It took a minute or two to dress in the turquoise Nike polo and khaki shorts Brad had selected for the day. He wore only designer clothes, and once he was fully dressed, was wearing nothing but Nike. Like a Huff would be seen out in public wearing anything less than the best!

It just so happened Dad owned a good chunk of Nike's stock, and with his connections, he was able to get their products sent right to the house at a substantial discount. Brad smiled as he thought about that.

 _It's so good to be me_.

 **XX**

When Brad got into Danny's room, the 9th grader was still sleeping, dozing comfortably under the covers. When Brad yanked the covers back, he whimpered and grabbed for them, but Brad held them away and slapped Danny across the face once, then twice.

"Ow! What the fuck?" Danny protested. He started to curse more, but Brad clapped a hand over his mouth.

"You should have set your alarm," Brad told him quietly.

"Mmm-mmmf! Mmemego ormmgonakilyou!"

"Not gonna happen, kid."

"MMM! Mmfyoumumfuker!"

Danny swatted at Brad and tried his best to pull his older brother's hand off his mouth, but the powerful, well-developed muscles in Brad's shoulders and arms meant it was useless. Danny's physique was impressive; he was as fit as any kid in the 9th grade. He'd worked hard for that six-pack, for those shoulders.

But as strong as Danny had grown up to be, Brad was stronger.

"Dude, you forgot to set your alarm. Calm down, asshole. I mean it! I'm not gonna let you go if you don't."

The younger blond teen gradually stopped struggling, and instead sat there on his bed, glaring resentfully at his brother.

Then he started licking the palm of Brad's right hand.

"God _damn_ it!" Brad exclaimed, jerking his hand back. Danny laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Wheeeeeeeeeek! Wheeek! Wheeek! Wheeeeeeeeeeeek!"

"Now, look! You woke Captain Jingles up!" Danny said. He hopped off the bed, grabbed a treat out of the bag he kept under the cage, opened the cage and scooped up the fat white-and-khaki guinea pig he'd given that ridiculous name to.

"Danny-"

"Shh. Hey, Captain Jingles, who wants a treat? Who's a good piggy? Who's a good piggy? Yes, you are, that's you."

It was pretty funny, watching Danny, the super-cool freshman and small-time wrestler and football player, stand there in his underwear, talking to his guinea pig. That thing kept shitting in the cage, but Danny obsessively cleaned it and the room, kept using the best air fresheners money could buy. Girls loved that guinea pig, or at least, the ones Danny dated did. The kid brother had lost his virginity after inviting the girl he was seeing back in September to come over and pet and feed Captain Jingles.

How that shit had _ever_ worked, Brad didn't know. But Danny had been coming to him day and night for advice and support basically since he'd been born, so adolescence was just another version of it. Brad couldn't remember ever telling him to use the fucking guinea pig to help him get laid.

"Hey, who's a good piggy? Who's the best piggy?" Danny said, cradling the guinea pig in his arms. "Yes, you are, I know."

While Danny was standing there, Brad snuck up behind him, grabbed the band of his underwear, and yanked it down to his ankles in one swift motion. Danny somehow managed to quickly set the pig down, then turned around, now completely naked, and tried to punch Brad, but instead tripped and hit the floor like a brick, sending a resounding boom through the frame of the house.

"Christ, keep it _down_ , will you?" Brad hissed.

"I hate it when you do that!" Danny said. "Stop doing that to me!"

"Get dressed," Brad said. "Mom's gonna be getting Dad up and bringing him downstairs in an hour and you take forever to get ready."

"It's my hair, this handsome face," Danny replied, drawing himself up with impressive dignity for someone who was sitting naked on the floor with his underwear around his ankles. "It needs maintenance."

"Your _face_ is sure gonna need maintenance if you don't hurry up."

Danny pulled his underwear up and stood, pushing at his brother as he headed for the bathroom. "You can't rush art, _Bradley_."

Brad laughed. The kid was arrogant, completely full of himself. He was handsome, athletically and socially talented, and just plain smart. He was also very, very aware of all that.

Just like his big brother.

 _I'm so proud of him_.

XX

For somebody who took forever to get up this morning, Danny had sure done well to redeem himself. He prepped and dressed quickly, wearing Nike khaki shorts and a white polo, and was downstairs with Brad soon after, getting the dining room ready.

It took about ten minutes to get the cake and decorations set up, and then, as the final touch, get the 40 small candles placed. Mom had gotten the cake made yesterday at a shop one of her friends owned. Mom's baking was superb, but her friend handled such things professionally, and busy as the household was, Mom had decided to defer to her this year.

Danny was just getting the last of the candles it when Brad heard Dad and Mom talking at the head of the stairs.

"Leslie, I know what day it is. I just don't see why we need to start it this early. The boys aren't going to be up for another hour at least."

"What better way is there to celebrate your birthday than to be awake for as much of it as possible, Richard?"

Richard Huff laughed. "All the same, I could still be in bed."

They were starting down the stairs now.

"Danny!" Brad hissed. "Places!"

Danny jerked his head up from adjusting one of the candles and almost dropped his lighter. He fumbled, barely managed to catch it, shoved it in his pocket and joined his brother behind the heavy, solid oak table that had been in the family for generations. Draped as it was in a fine white table cloth, with fine silverware and the candlelight playing over the whole scene, it looked quite elegant.

As Richard and Leslie Huff came down the last few steps and into view from the dining room, Brad and Danny, in perfect unison, took a breath and began to sing.

 _Far above Cayuga's waters,_

 _With its waves of blue,_

 _Stands our noble Alma Mater,_

 _Glorious to view._

 _Lift the chorus, speed it onward,_

 _Loud her praises tell;_

 _Hail to thee, our Alma Mater!_

 _Hail, all hail, Cornell!_

Dad's initial look of surprise gave way to one of delight and pride. Brad and Danny had both spent years in the church choir Mom headed, and were fine baritone singers. Their voices warmed to the familiar song quickly, and they continued into the second verse with only a moment's pause.

They matched each other perfectly, note for note, and didn't miss a word as their voices filled the room.

 _Far above the busy humming_

 _Of the bustling town,_

 _Reared against the arch of heaven,_

 _Looks she proudly down._

 _Lift the chorus, speed it onward,_

 _Loud her praises tell;_

 _Hail to thee, our Alma Mater!_

 _Hail, all hail, Cornell!_

Mom and Dad clapped their hands as the boys finished the last few notes of the refrain.

"That was beautifully done, boys," Mom said proudly.

"Thank you, boys," Dad added. "Thank you."

"Happy Birthday, Dad," Brad said. "I love you."

"I love you more than he does, Dad," Danny cut in, elbowing his brother with a grin.

"Leslie, did the boys bring you in on this plan, by any chance?" Dad asked, glancing at his wife with a sly expression.

"Well, Richard, they asked me if I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, and I instantly said yes."

"Then you confess to aiding and abetting this conspiracy against me."

"I regret nothing."

"Ah-ha! Guilty as charged, and unrepentant as well!"

"Dad, make a wish already!" Brad laughed. "Come on, these candles are gonna melt!"

"And now I've got the jury heckling me!" Richard Huff cried with mock outrage. "Where is the judge, the bailiff? This is clear contempt of the court!"

"Fair Harvard…" Danny began to sing, but Brad smacked him on the back of the head.

"Wrong school!"

"Ow!"

"Okay, okay," Richard Huff said. He approached the table, took in a big breath, then blew out most of the candles. He had to try again to get the rest of them, and Mom turned flipped a light switch so the room wouldn't go dark. A priceless English chandelier, hanging high above their heads, instantly lit the room.

"Hey, so what was your wish, Dad?" Danny asked.

"Only to keep what I have. With a fine home, a loving wife and such handsome, talented sons, I don't dare ask for more. What else could a man desire than this? That you did all this for me merely proves my point. All the treasures in the world can't compare to the ones standing in this dining room, right here with me."

"Aw, Dad," Danny said, blushing and looking away.

"I love all of you. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Brad and Leslie said at the same time. Danny was busy clearing his throat and kept insisting he'd gotten something in his eye.

"Jinx, Mom," Brad said, grinning. "Hey, so, can we have some eggs, bacon and toast to go with the cake?"

"I think we can come up with something," Leslie Huff answered with a smile.

 **XX**

After working in the kitchen with Mom for about five minutes, Brad brought the first serving of bacon in on a plate and returned to help prepare more. Bacon, eggs- fried and scrambled- toast, and sausage all were soon served up in generous quantities. Brad made a great show of making sure Dad didn't have to get up or ask for a single thing. Being a Huff, he deserved to have anything he could want presented before he could even ask.

Once Brad joined everyone at the table and the prayer was said, Dad soon launched into one of his windy talks on civic virtue and how it tied into some of the cases his firm was currently working on. Dad loved to talk about those kinds of things.

He was a real big-time figure in the legal profession, in Connecticut in general and in New Stratford specifically. His status as a founding partner in Williams & Huff, a major rising lawfirm in this part of Connecticut, meant that his opinion was often sought after and more people wanted Richard Huff on their team than he could possibly say yes to.

Just the name "Richard Huff" turning up on the opposing side had been enough to make some legal teams settle out of court or accept terms Richard proposed as a settlement. He had won numerous awards for his excellence and masterful insights into legal affairs, and was well-respected throughout Connecticut.

It was so wonderful having a big-shot like Richard Huff for a father. Brad personally felt sorry for all the kids at school who were the sons of nobodies, like that pissed-off freak Andre Kriegman and his faggot best friend, Calvin Gabriel. Those two especially were the sons of absolutely nobody, and were nobodies themselves. Like father, like son. Brad thought of them and wanted to laugh.

 **XX**

Once the table was cleaned up and the dishes put away, Danny took Captain Jingles outside for a while, letting him roam freely about the richly green, neatly-cut grass of the backyard. Brad got Dad talking about his days at Cornell, which he and Danny both aimed to attend themselves in keeping with Huff tradition. Dad, of course, was happy to talk about Cornell and kept Brad spellbound for a solid hour.

After Captain Jingles had pooped, pissed, wandered around and been stroked to his little piggy heart's content, Danny brought him back to his cage upstairs, got his backpack and headed outside, going to the passenger door of the imposing black Land Rover Range Rover that Brad owned. The thing's big chrome wheels gleamed in the sunlight, as did the still-new paint.

Mom's diesel E240 wagon and Dad's V12-powered SL-600 were both around back behind the house, in the climate-controlled, two-car garage. Brad had coveted that magnificent red SL-600 for years, but Dad was holding onto it for now, no matter how many hints his eldest son dropped. Still, Brad eyed it enviously and knew he'd sneak it out for a joyride just as soon as he found out where Dad kept the keys. He had to have it, had to take it out and pretend it was his, at least. Land Rovers were cool, but a Mercedes-Benz, especially a V12? Now, _that_ was the big leagues.

"Oh, and Brad," Mom said, following him to the door as Brad shouldered his own bag.

"Yes, Mom?"

"Try to ask Danny about what he'd like to drive. Don't forget, he's gonna be turning sixteen next year."

"Mom, I ask him, he's gonna flip out."

"Don't be overt about it, Brad."

"What?"

"Don't be obvious, honey."

"Oh. Yeah, I can do that. So, like, get him talking about cars and trucks and stuff? See what he likes?"

"That'll do fine. Your father and I just want some ideas. We want to make sure to get him something he'll really like, but it needs to be a surprise."

"Well, first off, I think it ought to be something new. We're not gonna make Danny drive an '85 Honda or something, right?"

"Oh, no!" Mom said, laughing at the very idea. "He's a Huff, sweetie, not just anybody. We'll take care of it. You just make sure to find out what he likes without letting him know what's going on."

"What if he wants a Murciélago?"

"When he's up for graduating college, we'll talk about it, but for right now nothing above Mercedes or Land Rover prices, understand?"

"Yes, Mom," Brad said, pleased and proud at being brought in on the conspiracy. "Don't worry."

"I never do, Brad," she said. "Now go on and get to school before you're late."

"Yes, ma'am."

 **XX**

Danny eyed Brad curiously as the older blond teen headed out to the massive sport utility vehicle parked at the curb. "What was _that_ about?"

"Oh, nothin'. Just stuff."

"I saw you and Mom laughing."

"I told her about how Charlie Jenkins said at PE yesterday: 'That's another Jew in the oven!' when he scored at basketball."

Danny laughed. "Wait, he actually _said_ that?"

"Yeah, he did."

Danny laughed again. "Wow. That's funny, dude. I mean, Hitler wasn't all bad, or something, was he?"

"Nah, they probably just play it up 'cause the Nazis bullied all the history geeks in school or some fucking shit like that."

Brad shrugged dismissively. He honestly couldn't have cared less what the truth was, but that theory sounded right to him. Even if Hitler had done some bad stuff, it was about 1,000 years ago and none of Brad's concern.

Moving around in front of the Land Rover's giant chrome-laden grille, Brad pressed the button for the remote and unlocked the truck. Then he stepped onto the driver's side running board, pulled open the driver's door, and dropped himself into $70,000 worth of luxury.

The whole interior was decked out in cut-pile carpeting, tan leather, velour fabric, and all the gadgets. CD and cassette player, with Bose speakers built in. All the wood was real, of course, and each seat was custom-embossed with the Huff family motto, _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_. All in all, this was a truck Brad could get used to. He had rolled and trashed the last one- a 1999- and came out with no more than bruises, a few scrapes, and a 2000 Range Rover as a replacement.

Dad had grounded Brad for a month over that one, especially with the issue of the liquor bottles the police 'found' in the wreck and the alcohol they 'found' in Brad's system.

But no mention of that went in any official reports. Richard Huff had seen to that. A few mistakes, here and there, were not going to be allowed to jeopardize Brad's promising future. That was how Dad always said it.

Brad loved his parents. They treated him right, sure enough, even if they were annoying sometimes. Dad was super strict with what few rules he had, and if you made an enemy out of him, he had a brutal sarcastic streak.

Danny was only minimally aware that his older brother did any drinking. He mostly knew Brad kept speeding, something else that got swept under the rug every time. But one day soon, Brad was gonna take Danny to a party and get the kid drunk and convince some cheerleader slut to ride him for an hour or two. It'd take some charm to convince a hot enough 11th or 12th grade girl to fuck a freshman, but Brad had plenty of charm. He knew he could make all that happen for Danny before the end of senior year. No question.

Oh, the things you could think up when you were a Huff. "Think it, and you can do it," they'd said as far back as elementary school. As a Huff, you really could. All those other losers had to make do with less, but not a Huff. No, sir.

"Hey," Danny said, as he climbed up and dropped himself into the front passenger seat. "So you got any cigarettes? Josh and Nick were asking and I kinda promised I'd have 'em a pack so we could smoke a little today… so…"

"Yeah, I'll toss you a pack, just not now, okay?"

"Sure, sure."

Brad inserted his keys into the ignition and turned them forward. The Range Rover's V8 started up instantly, sending a throaty roar through the twin exhaust pipes.

" _Damn_ , that sounds cool!" Danny exclaimed. He and Brad, in a routine they had practiced and rehearsed, put on their designer sunglasses at the same time.

"Time to go to school, Danny," Brad said.

"Shit."

"Be positive, Danny."

" _Fucking_ shit."

Brad grinned. "There you go."

* * *

 **A/N: 9-14-2018.  
**

 **I initially wrote this with Brad Huff driving a 2000 Cadillac Escalade instead, but I was watching the movie again and Andre and Calvin repeatedly mention the fact that Brad Huff owns a Land Rover Range Rover. Just goes to show how important it is to consult the original source and make sure you're getting those details right.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Brad was about to reply when his cell phone went off. Brad shifted into drive and put the phone in his left hand.

"Hello?"

"I rear-ended some old lady and they're towing the Mountaineer. Said I busted the fucking radiator, or something. I don't fucking know."

"Jesus, Charlie, didn't your parents just _buy_ you that?"

"Hey, look, it wasn't my fault, okay? She stopped and I didn't see shit, so you gonna come pick me up or what?"

"All right, yeah, where're you?"

"Anderson Boulevard, by the fucking Blockbuster, or- yeah, yeah, the Blockbuster."

"Okay, I'm coming."

"That's what I said to your mom-"

Brad hung up.

"So we're gonna go pick up Charlie Jenkins?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, he fucking hit somebody again."

"Who?"

"I dunno, some fucking old lady."

"Who gives a shit? If he hit a car full of hot girls, I mean, I hope they're okay. Matter of fact I better make sure they're okay. I can help, you know, I really can."

Brad laughed. "You horny bastard."

"Dude, I am _entirely_ your fault." Danny tugged at his white polo's collar. "Entirely."

"Whatever."

"You're proud of me."

"Yeah, yeah."

 **XX**

Charlie Jenkins, the tall, arrogant, red-haired dude Brad had played football and gone to school with since 4th grade, was busy arguing with the Essex County cop who'd been sent out to the scene when Brad showed up.

"I told you before, I ain't seen shit, all right? I ain't seen shit. I was looking down for like a second and she was just sitting there, okay? This isn't my fault!"

"I see," the cop said, visibly bored. "I got it all here. You just show up for the court date, all right?"

" _Court_ date?" Charlie almost shouted. " _Court date_? Are you _kidding_ me? You think I don't have better things to do than-"

" _Hey_ , Charlie!" Brad said, coming over and clapping his friend on the back. "Let's get you to school before we're late. Officer, thanks for your time, Charlie's gonna be right there in court, don't you worry."

"I'm not," the cop said. "It's your friend with the big mouth that needs to worry."

"Yes, sir, thank you, I understand, sir," Brad said, practically hauling Charlie away. "C'mon, Charlie, let's go."

"What'd you do that for?" Charlie grouched, once they were over by the Range Rover.

"I did it so you don't fucking get yourself arrested," Brad said. "Dude, when you're near a cop, _shut up_! Somebody at my Dad's office will get you outta this, but only if you shut-your-fucking-mouth!"

Charlie looked like he wanted to argue, but he sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and shrugged. "Yeah, all right… I called my parents and told 'em- oh, Nicole, babe, where'd you fucking go?"

"I just called my parents, Charlie," Nicole Kelman, Charlie's gorgeous blond cheerleader girlfriend, said as she came over and let Charlie hug her. "They worry about me."

"I worry about you, babe," Charlie said gently. "You're okay, right?"

"Yeah. Just be fucking careful, Charlie. I'm not gonna do that again if you can't drive."

Brad laughed. "Wait, you- oh my _God_!"

"Yeah, she was kinda giving me head, dude," Charlie said, blushing. "I didn't wanna go to school so she was helping me relax while I drove, you know?"

"Did you finish?"

"Oh, Brad, you _jackass_!" Nicole said, slapping him.

"Hey, hey, Nicole, calm down! It's just a question!"

"That's why I couldn't hit the brakes right, you know, I'd kinda shifted my legs 'cause I was into it, and… yeah."

"We barely cleaned up before the cops showed up," Nicole said, her face red. "Charlie made a fucking mess."

"Babe, I told you I'm sorry," Charlie said. "I'll be more careful next time, I promise. Now, let's go to school."

"I don't wanna go to school."

"I'll help you relax during lunch."

"Out by the bleachers?"

"Sure. Or we can use the football team locker room. I got a spare key I swiped."

"It smells like sweat and weights in there."

"Come on, babe, you love that shit."

"Okay, whatever. But you better be good, Charlie."

"I always am."

"Jackass."

Nicole was about to get into the Range Rover when her phone started going off. She took it out, and promptly started arguing with her mother. Brad and Charlie quickly learned that her mother, who was nearby, was taking her to school instead, much to her annoyance.

Brad barely managed to keep everybody cool when Mrs. Kelman showed up. After a terse argument, Charlie was still allowed to see Nicole, and nothing drastic was gonna happen for anybody, but Nicole did have to ride with her mother the rest of the way to school.

"Fuck," Charlie said, looking disappointedly after the Mercury Sable as it drove away. "Ah, whatever. Her mom's a cunt. I'll see Nicole at school."

"So how was it?" Brad asked, guiding Charlie into the back of the Range Rover and getting back in the driver's seat.

"The road head?" Charlie asked.

"No, rear-ending the old lady's car- yeah, the fucking road head!"

"Woah, you got road head?" Danny asked, visibly impressed.

"When you _grow up_ , little Danny, you'll _know_ how hard it is to drive when your dick's getting sucked by a cheerleader."

"Shut your fucking trap, Charlie! You just can't drive!"

Charlie laughed. "He's all right, Brad." He stretched out and sighed as Brad began to drive. "Jesus Christ, I can't believe it's already Monday. I do _not_ wanna fucking go to school."

"I don't, either," Brad said. "But here I am."

"Why the fuck do we even have to go?" Danny complained. "A day like this, I just wanna stay home."

"Cause Coach will kill all of us if we don't."

"Amen."

Brad drove on, idly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Hey," Charlie said suddenly. "I got an idea."

"Uh-oh," Danny said. "Charlie Jenkins is thinking again, Brad."

"Shut up, squirt."

"I'll squirt on Nicole. She'll like it."

"Ha! She's not interested in a freshman!"

"She's interested in a Huff," Danny said with obvious pride and smugness.

Brad laughed. Danny had heard graphic tales of his big brother's sexual conquests and exploits for years- all told by the hero of the story, of course- and knew very well what Brad had gotten to do while he'd dated Nicole for six months in 1998.

"Yeah, sure," Charlie said. "But you're a freshman and that's what counts."

"Oh, you wanna know what else counts?"

"Charlie, what the hell did you want? What idea did you have?" Brad broke in.

"I got an idea for some fun!" Charlie exclaimed, grinning. "I'm gonna narc on some people and you guys are gonna help me."

"Fuck off," Danny said immediately. "I don't narc on anybody."

"Snitches get stitches, motherfucker," Brad proclaimed, and the two Huff boys exchanged a fist-bump.

"You didn't even ask who I wanted to narc on."

"Narc on how? Like, do what?"

"Watch." Charlie got out his cell phone, dialed, stuck it in his ear. "Hello, Community Resources Against Street Hoodlums? Yeah, I wanna call in a drugs sighting at Iroquois High School? Yeah. I saw two guys at school acting real suspicious last Friday. I think they're planning on selling pot at school today. I'm sure. Their names? Yeah, I better give you their names, I guess. I don't normally do this but I don't want that stuff in my school, you know?"

Brad chuckled, amused and curious about where this was going. When he heard the names, he began to laugh. By the time they reached the school, he dug out his own phone and called C.R.A.S.H. himself. Danny followed a few minutes later, delighted to be let in on the plan. They all acted their parts magnificently. Danny even explained that the three anonymous boys had decided to call it in, one by one, before they went into school this morning.

They never doubted it, the chumps at the snitch line. They never doubted it for a second.

"That shit was _brilliant_ , man," Brad said as they headed for the school from the senior parking lot.

"Oh, it's not even started yet, dude," Charlie laughed. "Just you wait. Those guys don't even know. It's about time someone told the cops about them. They're up to something, don't you know? Bringing drugs into our school."

"We can't have that!" Brad exclaimed with mock concern. "Anything but that!"

Danny laughed. "This is gonna be _awesome_."

"Just you wait, my man. The show hasn't even started."

"And when it does," Brad added, "those two faggots are gonna get what they deserve."

"Hey, Sean!" Danny called out.

"What's up, Danny?" Sean Parsons asked, leaving his 1995 Ford Explorer to come join them. "Congratulations for joining the men."

"That was months ago, man. Listen to Brad and Charlie, we got something going right now?"

"Like what?"

"A couple faggots are gonna get searched for drugs they don't have and the rest of us are gonna get to have fun laughing at them."

"Oh, yeah?"

"You bet, Sean. Just wait, the cops are gonna be here anytime. Then, they'll do a drug search, and that's when the fun begins."

"Do those two even have girlfriends?" Danny asked.

"Danny, I don't think they've ever had girlfriends in their _lives_."

"Jeez, how fucking gay can you _get_?"

"Exactly, man. That's why they deserve this."

 **XX**

There were some mornings that people could tell would be a brilliant morning. The sun would be high in the sky. Said sky would also be nearly cloudless. There would be mild, nice weather all around, and people would just love to spend their time outside, with the air carrying early hints of summer.

Everybody loved those mornings. They were the absolute perfect condition. Those mornings were the days when people wanted to get up and out of the house. Adults wouldn't absolutely hate going to work, and teenagers wouldn't dread school—even though it might be a Monday. Instead they would eagerly bound out of bed because somehow the nice day outside instills in them a good feeling.

At least, most of the time it would be like that, and a lot of the time it would continue to be so, but perhaps not for everybody would it be a good day. A blessing for one person might be tragedy for another person; it all depends on circumstance and opinion.

Andre Kriegman though felt it might just be a good day. Perhaps it hadn't been the day but hopefully he wouldn't walk down the hall and hear an insult thrown at him for once. It was probably a long shot but he could hope. Honestly though, he was almost past the point of even caring. He knew what would be happening soon enough. When he awoke to zero degrees, the day would be a beautiful day no matter what.

He put the blinker on and took a left, absentmindedly making a beeping noise along with the sound of the blinker. Andre pulled up in front of a blue house, putting the car in park as he waited.

Andre didn't have to wait long though because soon the door to the blue house had slammed shut and a blond teenager around his age came bounding down the stairs and towards the car. Calvin climbed into the car, closed the door and pulled on his seatbelt.

At once, he put the car in drive again, taking off towards their school. Neither of them said a word after Calvin's short, muttered "morning" after he had gotten into the car. The both of them didn't need to say anything.

Both of them automatically felt much more at ease around the other. They didn't have to hide their thoughts, but they didn't have to talk about them either because they both already knew how the other thought, how the other felt.

Andre pulled into the senior parking lot, shutting off his car. "Another day…" Calvin sighed from the passenger seat. Andre glanced at him from behind his sunglasses before looking forward towards the entrance of the school.

"Another day of having to see all those fuckheads alive." Andre finished the thought. His friend gave a small laugh before climbing out of the car. Andre followed his lead, locking it up and walked towards the school, glancing around at all the other seniors trudging into the high school.

"You know," Calvin began, squinting his eyes against the sunlight streaming down on them. "I almost find it funny walking past all these people. They don't even know, but you can't really blame them for not knowing." He mused, shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

The two of them walked into the entrance. Andre absently glanced over into the main office. "Mm, no. Can't really blame them for that, but sure as hell can blame them for a lot of other shit they do though." He replied, speaking only loud enough so that Calvin could hear his response.

Calvin rubbed his hand through his hair, nodding in agreement. The two of them fell silent, making their way towards their lockers, dodging the many other students in the halls. Andre could already feel the hatred for the school building up anger inside of him and first period hadn't even started.

 **XX**

If there was one class Calvin actually liked, it was English class.

Yet this didn't mean that Calvin wasn't counting down the minutes until it ended. No offense to Mrs. Harper, but he had a lot more important things on his mind the "masterpiece" that Edgar Allen Poe's poetry tended to be.

Calvin bit down on his lip as he stared at the clock on the opposite wall. The seconds were ticking past painfully slowly and he could feel irritation grow inside of him rapidly. His fingers were shaking as he clenched his hands over his desk, foot tapping annoyingly beneath it.

If somebody compared him and Andre side by side, they would say that Andre was definitely the angrier one, but Calvin knew that it was only because Andre didn't keep his anger bottled up like Calvin did. That was part of the reason that Andre tended to get into much more trouble than Calvin did.

The only two who really even knew that Calvin was capable of the same anger as Andre was actually only him and Andre. People wouldn't guess that because Calvin rarely ever released that anger, but sometimes it just got too much to bottle inside. One said time was when he had got into a fight at the science museum with another boy last year. Neither of them had been hurt badly, but they had still gotten in quite a bit of trouble for it.

It had felt good to release that anger, even though Calvin had been grounded for a month.

Calvin brought his hands up to his face, leaning on them to try and get himself to stop shaking. He didn't know why he was so angry that particular day, but he could feel Andre staring at his back, trying to silently tell him to calm down.

He swallowed, closing his eyes, taking in a deep breath through his nostrils. Calvin knew he had to calm down, but he also knew that was easier said than done. Yet their plan depended on them acting like the perfect students, the perfect teenage boys. They couldn't get into trouble.

If they got into trouble it could be the end of everything.

A pencil poked sharply into his back and Calvin opened his eyes at once, noticing the rest of the class as well as Mrs. Harper staring at him. Calvin flushed, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He glanced back at Andre. The German boy was raising his eyebrows at him, silently asking, _What the fuck are you doing?_

Calvin turned back around, looking at Mrs. Harper.

The red-haired woman was leaning back in her chair, relaxed. Calvin glanced down at his desktop. "Mr. Gabriel, I asked if you would please read the next passage. Did you not hear me?" she questioned, and the class snickered. Calvin had to bite down on his lip to keep from glaring at them—Andre was probably doing that for him anyway.

"No..." he replied, voice at a mumble.

"I'm sorry? What was that?"

Calvin took in another deep breath. "No, I didn't hear you. Sorry." He swallowed lightly, glancing at the time. It was 9:13 AM; there was still a half hour left in the class.

"Are you sick?" She continued to question. He let out the breath. Even though he liked the class and Mrs. Harper was one of the better teachers—if there could be any good teachers—she was still strict as hell.

"Headache," he answered, hoping that would suffice enough for her. The woman stared at him for a moment before nodding, motioning to his book. Calvin looked down at it as Andre quickly whispered which passage it is. Clearing his throat, Calvin began to read until Mrs. Harper told him to stop.

Calvin raised his voice a bit as he read, but still kept it quieter than most people would. He felt embarrassed, nervous as he read. He hated being called out in class, even classes he was good at. It was obvious that people were watching him, judging him, making fun of him. He hated it.

But nothing could be done about it, at least not yet, he knew. The teachers didn't care if students snickered at you in class, as long as they weren't being overly vocal about it nobody cared. It was a part of high school; it was part of being a teenager. It didn't matter that Calvin felt uncomfortable because teachers thought it would be better for their students to be more outgoing, to have those friends.

Yet Calvin didn't want those friends. He had a friend, a really good friend that he shared a secret with and he knew that was the only friend he would ever need, the only friend he would ever really have.

Andre had always been the only real friend he had, he realized as he looked back over all his friends. Rachel was nice, but he didn't really think of her as a true friend. He actually liked playing with her though, giving her all these little hints, but they weren't anything substantial. He liked to let her believe that the Cal she saw was the real Cal, and the Cal that acted around Andre was just something he did—an act he put on.

She would never know that the act he put on was actually the persona he showed around everyone that wasn't Andre. That is, she would never know that until it happened; Zero Day.

Finally, Mrs. Harper called on a girl in the front of the class and Calvin once again stopped paying attention to class just as a note was tossed onto his desk.

He turned his head, looking at Andre who nodded to the note. Calvin turned back around, opening it up.

 _Dude whats rong? Ur lik totally out of it 2day_.

Calvin glanced up at the front of the classroom before grabbing his pen and writing back. _Nothing's wrong. Just got a headache today, like I said_.

He was about to send the note back when a loud, drawn-out beep indicated the intercom was about to come on. Everyone looked up expectantly, momentarily interested; around this place, any change in routine was welcome.

"This is Mr. Parkinson," the principal said in his fussy, precise voice. "All teachers, please remain in your classrooms. If you have anyone out in the halls, bring them back inside immediately."

"The hell was that about?" Omar Walters wondered aloud behind Calvin.

"Who cares, dude?" another boy laughed.

"Language, Mr. Walters," Mrs. Harper said.

"What's going on, Mrs. Harper?" Timothy Anders asked.

"Probably another drug search," a boy Calvin didn't know said.

"Is that what it is?" Anders asked.

"Just stay inside," Mrs. Harper said. "We're not in any danger. Now, Ms. Collins, if you'll continue with the reading…"

Calvin slouched back in his seat, bored again. He wanted to laugh out loud at the "We're not in any danger" bit, but he knew there was no need. Just a little longer…

The blond decided to play it cool, though, and wait a few minutes before there was a knock at the door. Three loud raps that made the door shake a little in the frame.

"Come in!" Mrs. Harper called.

"Sorry to intrude, ma'am," a man said, and Calvin's heart stopped as he saw several Essex County police officers standing outside the classroom.

"May I help you?" Mrs. Harper asked.

"We need to conduct a search."

A search? A search… well, maybe it was just a generic drug search, after all. That didn't matter. Good fucking God, if they knew, if they were here for Calvin and Andre…

"Mr. Gabriel, Mr. Kriegman," the lead deputy said, "Would you mind stepping outside?"

"What the hell for?" Andre asked insolently.

"Don't make this difficult, son," the deputy warned.

"Don't call me son and maybe I won't make it difficult."

The class was dead silent. Each and every student was riveted to their seats, eyes pinned on the drama unfolding in front of them.

"Come on, Andre, let's go," Calvin said, determined to play it cool. He had to. Otherwise Andre would get them both in trouble.

"Fine," Andre said, standing up in a huff.

The deputies swiftly led them across the hall, and in full view of the class stood them facing the lockers.

"What's going on?" Calvin asked.

"Spread your hands and feet," one of the cops ordered him. "Hands on the locker. On the locker! Stay still!"

"What are you guys doing?" Andre demanded.

"And let's have those sunglasses," a deputy said, snatching them off Andre's head. He grabbed for them but was shoved up against the locker.

"Fuck!"

"Keep still and cooperate. Don't make this worse."

"Make _what_ worse? What the _hell_ are you people doing?"

"Be quiet."

Calvin held still as they patted him down, head to toe. For Chrissakes, they even gave his _crotch_ a little squeeze to make sure nothing unusual was down there. From the uncomfortable grunt Andre made, they were doing the same thing to him.

While Calvin braced against the wall of lockers, a pair of German shepherds were brought around a corner by two handlers, and proceeded to thoroughly sniff the two boys.

"Anything in their lockers?" the lead deputy inquired.

"No, turned both of 'em inside out-"

"You _what_?" Andre exclaimed in outrage.

"Nothing in 'em," the handler who'd been speaking said, looking at Andre suspiciously. "I made sure we checked 'em both thoroughly."

"Okay, we better be sure," the lead deputy said. "Either of you boys have a car?"

"Yeah," Andre said sarcastically. "I got a '69 Camaro SS with a 6-speed on the floor."

"Well," the deputy said, digging into Andre's right pocket and holding up the keys, "looks like you own a GM car at any rate."

"Get fucked, buddy."

"Andre-"

"You stay outta this," the deputy warned Calvin. "Okay, cuff them. If we find what we're looking for, we'll have to do that soon enough anyway."

Calvin thought briefly that they somehow only meant to cuff Andre, but sure enough, handcuffs were slapped onto his wrists, pinning his hands behind him.

"What happened?" Calvin asked, calmly as he could. "Someone tip you off about us?"

"None of your concern," the lead deputy replied. "Let's go."

 **XX**

It was all Calvin could do to keep Andre calm. The dark-haired teen wasn't just mad; he was pissed off. Calvin understood and agreed with him, but there was nothing that they could do. The sniffer dogs were either looking for bombs, which was bad, or for drugs, which was not, since neither of the boys had any. There weren't any bombs in Andre's car- not yet- but that was too close for comfort.

Thing was, if these guys knew about Zero Day they probably would not have been acting like they'd gotten a tip-off and were conducting a drug search.

If that was what they were doing, Calvin knew they had to stay cool and let them go through the motions. Arguing or resisting would only give them an excuse and make this worse.

Andre shot glances at Calvin every so often, quick and furtive. It was the only indication there was that he was afraid. Calvin did his best to convey calm and steadiness, to assure Andre as best he could that all was well if they kept calm. Some of that must have gotten across. Andre continued to look fucking pissed, but he seemed less skittish and worried as they were marched out to the parking lot.

The cops were definitely going for scare-tactics at the moment, because they marched the boys toward the waiting police cars, then turned left and continued on toward the senior lot, like that was what they had planned to do the whole time. But Calvin knew. They had waited a couple seconds, let Calvin and Andre think they were being arrested for real.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at Andre's light blue 1989 Pontiac Grand Am.

"Yeah, that's my fucking car," Andre said irritably. "You wanna open it up and search it for coke? Maybe Pablo Escobar is hiding in there, you ever think of that?"

"Shut up," one of the deputies ordered. "You keep running your mouth and you're gonna have bigger problems."

Calvin just remained silent and waited as the deputies went through Andre's car, top to bottom. After what seemed like forever, they finally accepted the fact that they weren't going to find anything, and they took the handcuffs off.

"You guys just get back inside," the lead deputy said as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. "Looks like somebody wasted our time after all."

"What- what, you mean someone _called_ you about us? Told you we had drugs?" Andre demanded. "And you _believed_ that shit?"

"Let's go, fellas," the lead deputy said, ignoring Andre.

"Now, wait just a _minute_!" Andre screamed as they started to go. "You don't get to just drag us out of class, pat us down, cuff us in front of everyone and walk the fuck out! Look at yourselves! _Who the fuck do you think you are_?!"

"Would you like me to put the cuffs back on? Run you both in for probable cause?"

"You-"

"Listen, kid," the deputy said impatiently. "If you think I came all the way out here because I enjoy the company of shitheads like you, you're wrong, because I don't. You think somebody tipped us off? Maybe they did. Maybe they wasted our time, too. But I don't have to stand here shooting the shit with you. As far as I'm concerned you deserved this anyway. You better hope I don't ever have to get called out to this school for you again, because if I do, it's gonna be a bad, bad day for Andre Kriegman. Understand?"

"Oh, I understand," Andre said, fists at his sides, his whole body shaking with rage.

"You wanna take a swing at me?" the deputy asked, genuinely amused behind his dark wraparound sunglasses. "Go right ahead if it makes you feel any better. It'll make me feel a _lot_ better, knowing your folks are gonna have to come bail you out of the county jail after you get charged with assaulting an officer."

"Goddamn it-"

"Andre, _shut the fuck up_!" Calvin cried, desperate to keep this from escalating further.

The dark-haired teen stopped shouting and turned, visibly startled. "What?" he asked, like he hadn't heard.

"Listen to your friend," the lead deputy said. "It'll save you a lot of trouble."

"He will, thank you, sir," Calvin said. "Have a nice day, sir. Thank you."

The cops went to leave. As one of them passed Andre, he stuck the confiscated sunglasses onto the collar of his shirt. Andre stared after them, watching as they got into their white Chevrolet Caprice cars, doors marked with the Essex County crest, and drove away.

Andre opened his mouth and took in a breath. No doubt he was going to scream something inflammatory. Calvin clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged his best friend over to the Grand Am, and shoved him down against the hood.

"Shut the fuck up, Andre, before you get us both arrested!"

"You? Why would they arrest you?"

"Because I was one second from punching those smug bastards in the face, too!" Calvin exclaimed. " _I've had it_ , Andre! I've _had it_ with this fucking school! Somebody called into that C.R.A.S.H. snitch line and _lied_ about us!"

"I _knew_ it!" Andre hissed. "I fucking _knew_ that's what happened!"

"I'm not waiting!" Calvin suddenly shouted. "I'm not-"

Now Andre was the one who had to move fast. He slapped a hand over Calvin's mouth and wrestled his friend down to sit beside him next to the Grand Am's passenger door.

"Dude, be cool," Andre said soothingly. "Be cool, be cool."

Calvin made angry noises and whipped his head back and forth, tried to pull Andre's hand off his mouth.

"No, dude, I can't let you go yet," Andre said. "You were just telling me not to get us arrested. If you start shouting about how you wanna blow these motherfuckers away now instead of in four weeks, what the fuck do you think will happen to us then?"

Calvin stared at Andre. He saw the world through a haze of red. He could barely think. He was trembling. The blond teen had never imagined a single human body could withstand containing so much rage. Calvin wanted everyone in that school dead. Every single human being in Iroquois High.

Not even just the jocks anymore, either. He wanted to see them all on the ground, bullets in them, blood seeping from their bodies. Everyone. Fucking everyone.

But the red haze seemed to diminish around Andre. Calvin wanted to kill and he wanted to die, but he could not have raised a hand against Andre. Looking at Andre calmed him down, and gradually, Calvin felt Andre remove his hand.

"I'm okay," Calvin sighed. "I'm all right now."

"I am, too."

"You ready to go back inside?"

"Sure. What the fuck ever. Let's go and get this over with. We can hang out after school if you want."

"Let's do that. I wanna talk about Zero Day."

"My favorite subject."

"Thanks, Andre," Calvin said, managing to smile.

"Nah, thank you, man, for saving those pigs from what I would've done to them."

"Anytime."

 **XX**

Calvin did his best to calm himself down, and he generally managed it. Generally. There were odd snickers behind him in 3rd and 4th Period. Whispers behind hands, pointed fingers. Inexplicable laughter. It happened in the halls between class, too, and on the way to lunch.

It was all Calvin could do to keep it together. The school knew. The whole fucking school knew. Of course they knew. How could they not know after that show the Essex County Sheriff's Department had put on? How could they _not_ know?

But deep down, Calvin had his suspicions. Some instinct said that someone had tipped the student body off, made _sure_ they all knew. Maybe it was the same someone who'd tipped off the cops in the first place with that bullshit claim that Andre and Calvin had drugs.

Maybe that someone had seen something funny in humiliating two loser kids whom nobody really liked in front of the whole school. Maybe that someone thought it would be even better to have half the cafeteria getting the giggles just as Calvin Gabriel walked in.

Brad Huff, that blond, athletic, oh-so-perfect pile of putrid dogshit, was already there, surrounded by Omar Walters, Timothy Anders, Sean Parsons, Charlie Jenkins, and his little twerp brother, Danny Huff. They were all occupying one table, sharing it with their hot, vapid girlfriends. But the center of it all was Brad Huff, the football jock and rich kid, the legend in his own mind.

The stupid son of a bitch had his own little court, with his kid brother as the jester- eager, even desperate, to amuse and please his king. It was hilarious and sickening at the same time. Calvin sincerely hoped that whole table would end up dead on Zero Day. Especially little Danny.

Calvin didn't want little Danny to die a nice, easy death, though. If he found the kid on May 1st, Calvin would make sure to give him some 'special treatment'… something befitting the court jester. Something he _deserved_.

But that was a useless, pointless anger right now. It did Calvin no good at all, and that made everything about this moment worse. The laughter, the pointed fingers, the smiles. People knew. Someone had made sure of it.

The table was at the center of the cafeteria, the center of all the action, and Brad was everybody's favorite person. He had been for years, and Calvin hated him. Right now, he had half a dozen different people talking to him or to someone right beside him, but somehow, he looked up at just the right moment and spotted Calvin, locked eyes with him.

And Brad Huff smiled.

* * *

 **A/N: 5-28-2018.**

 **Updated 7-1-2018.**

 **Posted 10-21-2018.**

 **Chapter 2 borrows about 1,600 words from "RS9- Caught Before the Act (Original Version)", part of the Restoration Series I did for this archive. I was thinking about how to feature Andre and Calvin and how the same day we started with Brad Huff is going for two of them. As I thought about it, I realized I could just use some existing text from that other story and alter how things progress from a certain point.**

 **Iroquois High School is the real name of the public school Andre and Calvin attend; that is, "real" as in canon. The movie's website specifies such details as the name of the school and the city, county, and state it is located in (New Stratford, Essex, and Connecticut respectively) and numerous other things about the universe the film is set in.**

 **The movie's website was set up sometime in 2002 or 2003 and was around until 2004. Being the website of a small independent film that bombed at the box office- whatever small showing it** _ **did**_ **get in theaters- it is understandable that the website for** _ **Zero Day**_ **was not around very long. Thanks to fellow user and writer calgabriel, who joined the site in 2017, I was able to copy and save all the text from the movie's website and make it into "From the Website", so anyone who visits the archive for this film can read it.**

 **I formerly imitated another author who made up the name Roger Tielson High School, and have left that alone where it was used in my previous stories. All my stories since the point where I learned of the canon name use Iroquois High School and reference it being in New Stratford and Essex County in Connecticut.**

 **C.R.A.S.H. is the group of corrupt police officers in the Los Santos Police Department who serve as the main antagonists of the 2005 video game** _ **Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas**_ **.**

 **This story is inspired by a real-life incident referenced in Mark Ames' book** _ **Going Postal**_ **. Someone called in a false tip to a hotline set up by Columbine High School about Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold having drugs on them, and the authorities responded by pulling them both out of class in front of everyone, searching them and their lockers and (I believe) their cars, then just dismissed them when they found nothing. As Ames pointed out, these tip lines- at least one of which offered monetary reward if anything was found- mostly just incentivize popular kids to narc on the weirdos, and possibly even earn free money.**

 **In both Ames' observation and my own, there is an exception to the deeply-rooted "snitches get stitches" culture. It is entirely acceptable for a popular kid to rat out an unpopular one, even if they do so openly, even if they do so right in front of the other kid. So long as the snitch occupies a significantly higher social status than the one they're ratting out, then none of the normal stern social consequences for snitching on one's peers apply. So Charlie Jenkins and Brad Huff know exactly what they're doing when they knowingly call in a false tip to C.R.A.S.H.**

 **Omar Walters is a canon character; he is one of the 12 students killed by Andre and Cal on May 1, 2001 in the movie. Brad Huff is also canon and is mentioned but never seen in the film. Charlie Jenkins, Timothy Anders, and Sean Parsons are all OC athletes created by the original author of "Calvin's Video Diaries". Danny Huff is an OC I created; I found it surprisingly easy to imagine Brad as having an adoring younger brother.**

 **Brad Huff was a feature character in only one other story on this archive; "Vivid" by Admit-I-am-your-enemy. It was uploaded in September 2012 and deleted sometime later. It graphically depicted Calvin killing Brad Huff on Zero Day. I never liked it and although I have a copy, part of my own personal archive of works from back when you could still copy and paste off the story pages on here, I have no intention of bringing it back.**

 **The user calgabriel deserves special mention. As with so many of my more recent stories, he assisted me with developing this one by responding to my initial concepts and ideas for stories. Most relevant are our conversations about Brad Huff and the fact that he has been virtually ignored by the archive's authors so far. We talked about why that might be, and how one might go about featuring him in a story, best of all, showing his side of things. Not to excuse or condone- the movie doesn't do that with Andre and Cal and I don't do that with Brad- but to depict how the person is and how they see themselves and the world around them.**

 **All feedback is welcome, as always.**


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